


Homesick

by ScreamingWrites



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Homesickness, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, M/M, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingWrites/pseuds/ScreamingWrites
Summary: How long would this war last?And perhaps most importantly, how long would Lance?Lance feels home sick. He wants Earth. He wants his family and his old bed back.Discontinued for the forseeable future - love the ship, kind of lost interest in the ficBut how can that even happen because in space there's not really any home to return to.





	1. Missing Home.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter only feature's Lance and future chapters will be longer! Hope you guys enjoy!

Lance sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. They were soft and fluffy and never gave you neck problems but something was always missing, some aspect of the Earth that they once had in what seemed like a past life now. Something that wasn't quite real anymore, something he could see but not grasp as it ran through his fingers everytime.

It was the same with the beds. Alteans really had a knack for designing things that were super comfoetable and nothing like the old worn out matress with a spring that poked you in the back he slept on for years back home simply because he had had it since he was a child. 

It just..wasn't right. Atleast not for tonight. 

Atleast not for him.

Some nights he could lie in bed and stare at the plain ceiling for awhile before drifting off into a blissful sleep but others..he'd sit there and bang his head into the stupidly soft pillow, that meant it didnt even hurt, until what was probably about a vargas (a little over an Earth hour) until they had to get up.

He yearned for home.

For the noise of his family, all eight of them squished into his abuelita's not so big house back home. It was always loud, and in the nights always had some noise. Nothing like the sound proofed room he was currently sleeping in. 

He sighed, eyes closing for just a second as he blindly reached for the communicator on the side table to his bed, lip drawn between his teeth. 

It didn't take long until the light of it was lighting up the blackness of behind hid eyelids to assert it's presence and with a few blinks to adjust he was staring at the communicater Pidge had altered to read English on.

He clicked through the apps until stopping on one. He had stumbled over it. It was sort of like a white noise generators people used back home. The sort his abuelita had in her room. His though only had one feature programmed on by him, left it stuck on a repeat cycle and was pressing play as he placed the communicator down and let his eyes close again. 

Rain. The sound of rain hitting glass windows and the soil outside, starting off light and gradually getting heavier and heavier until he swore he could hear the lightning from Earth to accompany the storm rain. 

He swallowed. 

He could almost feel it. The droplets hitting his face as he tilted his head up, could see it in his mind how the clouds would swirl and turn grey over time, his mother shouting from the distance to get inside or he'd catch death.

And then he jolts to a sitting position in a quick move, hand clutching his chest with wide eyes and gasping for air because holy crap, that was definitely real. Too real. 

He stared at the door, as if a sibling would come through with tired eyes and mused hair, asking him to turn off the goddamn noise because they were trying to sleep. Then they'd see him, and before long they'd be sharing a bed and Lance would feel Benjy jump up and curl into their legs and, oh. Benjy. 

He was about seven when they left. What would he be now? 10? 

Lances eyes blurred and he swallowed, eyes closed and shaking his head. 

He would see his dog again, feel the comforting warmth and breath, feel him jump on his legs with nails that needed to be clipped just to say hello and get a fuss when he came inside. He would. 

He had to. 

Lance let out a breath, trying to get control of his thoughts with the next inhale. 

How long would this war last?

And perhaps most importantly, how long would Lance?


	2. Day After Emotions.

The next day went like it always did after nights like that. 

An automatic routine that he went through in a zombie like state, bags stained darkly under his eyes that, at this point, looked rimmed red from the little sleep he was disturbed from. He could sleep in more if he really wanted but he never does, never did. He was an early riser. Besides, if Zarkon chose to attack early morning he'd want to be prepared, fresh and definetely not groggy. 

A shower that was alot like an upgraded one of what they had back home. Apart from with this one you could adjust it so you didn't have to keep moving to get under the spray as it covered you completely in its water so you didn't freeze to death, something Lance was thankful for every morning as Alteans apparently hadn't discovered central heating which meant the ship was always like a metal feeezer when they got up.

Lance paused. Was it called a morning in space? There really was no sun that rose seeing as they were in a floating space ship. Maybe he could get a light or something that would light up gradually with Earth times to wake him? That would be nice. He'd have to make a note of it somewhere for the next trip to the space mall.

After the shower was face care in the fluffy blue bathrobe. They may not have got heating but damn, they got the softness of everything perfect.

This is where his morning got derailed in more of a fashion than last night could do. A banging to his door as he just finished putting a facemask on, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he was forced to shake himself awake and deal with the person at his door in Lance time. 

He let it slide open, arms crossing over his chest as he saw none other than Keith, making his annoyance obvious. "Keith." He says, watching the males eyes trail over his face in what Lance would guess was confusion.

"What..is that on your face?" He questions, eyebrows drawing in but lips drawn up into that smug, amused wry smirk that Lance found annoyed him every time Keith did it. 

"What does it look like? A face mask, I don't care if we're in space. I gotta keep up my beauty, and beauty like this takes work Mr.I-Get-Flawless-Skin." He answered, arms still crossed over his chest to demonstate his annoyance and hint at Keith to leave.

Keith never had been very good at taking hints, and Lance had to let out a frustrated breath as the mullet haired male stood at his door with that stupid wry smirk still on his lips in a silent staring contest apparently. 

"What do you want? I'm busy." He asks finally.

"Oh, right." Keith nodded, as if forgetting their was a reason he was stood at Lance's door. "Hunk says he's almost done with breakfast that's not food goo. I've been sent to tell you to hurry up or something." 

Lance nodded once, lip took between his teeth and then he nodded again, no response coming to his mind as he stepped back from the door, hearing it hiss softly as it prepares to close. 

"Thanks, I'll be out soon." He answered, the door sliding to a shut after. He groaned audibly. 

Lance time. He didn't know if the principle was hard to grasp or if it was just the space atmosphere that made people forget customs on Earth. Oh well. Food called that might actually not taste like a bland flavourless nothing. 

He got dressed, in his usual clothes. The castle had made replicas of them when they first arrived and now he had a wardrobe full of the same clothes. He had kept the originals seperate, had refused to let his jacket get copied. It was a piece of not only Earth but his home, it was one of a kind. 

He was then washing the face mask off after what he assumed was about ten minutes and finished his bathroom routine, a quick route through the castle until he was entering the common room with another sigh falling from his lips. 

"Lance!" Hunk greets, the plate in his hand placed down onto the table, "I figured out how to make something along the lines of cheese, thanks to Kalteneckers milk, and a bagel. Not quite the same but still tastes good, or atleast I hope it does." He informs as Lance makes his way to the table, a small smile gracing his lips. 

Hunk was his best friend from the Garrison, had even came back to his house for the weekend and met the family. Lance's mom loved him instantly and he was let into the families recipe book, all the while Lance was teased continuously. He smiled further at the memory, Hunk still was his bestfriend. 

"Sounds good, buddy. I bet it'll taste amazing, are we waiting on anyone?" He asks, slipping into his seat and arching a brow. The others were either seated or almost seated but Hunk nodded. 

"Yeah, we're waiting on Keith." He nods, and Lance had to scoff slightly and roll his eyes. Of course.

As if on cue Mullet Man (what Lance had taken to reffering to Keith as rather than Pretty Eyes or Samurai) was walking through the doors with not even a look of sheepishness on his face as he slipped into the seat he sat in, right beside Lance and Lance bit his tongue at teasing Keith. Something just didnt feel right. It was probably just last night remaining on him, colouring his choices with the people that had become his space family now. 

He glanced at Hunk as the male sat down, a small smile still set on his own face but he couldnt manage anything more than that or his usual energetic optimism. He nodded a thanks as everyone began to tuck in, Lance making a small noise of pleasure at the taste of the food. It was almost like Earth food. 

He didn't notice the blush that coloured Keiths cheeks at that. 

"So good Hunk, it's the best." He complimented, another smile sent to the taller male and as the others chirped in with their positive opinions, Alluras more questioning on what it was but not in any bad way, he could see the satisfaction bloom on his friends face along with a wide smile. Lance knew these would be made again, not that he was complaining.

He felt a nudge to his leg a few minutes later when chatter had started amongst people at the table and looked over to see Keith with a puzzled expression, still eating a mouthful of food. 

"You okay?" Keith asks, the tone rendering Lance speechless as he swallowed his food. It was so soft and genuinely caring that it caught him off guard coming from Keith. 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He supplied quickly to try and hide the amount of silence that lasped, seeming infinitely longer in Lances head than anywhere else. 

"I can notice something's off so-" 

"Paladins, I have an announcement!" Coran announced, interupting Keith and Lance was, quite frankly, thankful. He really didnt want to admit anything to Keith. To anyone. 

He missed the way the other male's face seemed to fall as Lance's eyes turned to Coran, or the worry that crossed those purple eyes that were still stuck on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chpter will be longer again! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
